Two Lips, Indifferent Red

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

My luck held; Hunter was in the shop, and I explained the situation to him. “…and I need to go home. I hope you’re not mad at me for leaving on such short notice. If you want, once I have this sorted out with my father, I can come back and work off my two weeks.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kipp. I’ll be sorry to lose you, but you do what you have to do.”

“Thank you.”

“Does your guy know?”

“Yes, I just got off the phone with him. Wait, how did you know…?”

“I happened to see him kissing you, and I had a little conversation with him.”

“Um…yes?” My face felt hot. “May I ask what about?”

“You’re too polite, Kipp. I told him if he hurt you, I’d come after him with the crowbar I use to open the big wooden boxes.”

“Oh! Then you don’t mind that we’re…we’re dating?”

“God bless you both! Now tell me. How are you fixed for money?”

“I’m all right. I have most of my last paycheck, and I sold some of my books back to the bookstore.”

“What about the others?”

“I’ll donate them to Goodwill.”

“Why give them away when you can get something for them?” He sounded shocked.

“I can’t.” I didn’t bother shrugging—he couldn’t see me. “These are useless—the professors have written new editions of their textbooks.”

“Bring the books to me. I’ll take care of them for you.”

“But, Hunter, they’re asking for student ID in the bookstore now.”

“Don’t you worry, Kipp. I’ll sell them online. Are you keeping your checking account open?”

“Yes.” My paycheck was automatically deposited into it, and my cell phone bill was automatically deducted from it. “For the time being, anyway.” Until I knew exactly what Sir needed of me.

“Then I’ll put whatever I get for the books into it. And Kipp, your job will be waiting for you if you want to come back.” Hunter had never encouraged physical contact, but I wondered if he would have hugged me if we’d been face to face. “Just drop the books off here, okay?”

“First thing tomorrow morning.”

“Why don’t you bring them by now?”

“I’ve got one more final.”

“Then bring them by afterward. I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“No, but I want to. It’s been a pleasure having you work for me.”

I could feel myself blushing again. “Thank you.”

“And Kipp, make sure you wear something suitable for Gabarelli’s.”

“Oh!” That was one of the most upscale Italian restaurants in Charlestown. All its dishes were amazing, or so I’d heard—as a college student, I couldn’t afford even its appetizers. It was especially known for a pasta puttanesca so mouthwatering chefs from other restaurants had attempted to obtain the recipe through any means, including having their own line chefs infiltrate Chef Pasquale’s kitchen. “All right; thank you.” I might as well take advantage of my freshly pressed clothes.

“Now, be here as soon as you finish that final.”

“Yes, Hunter.”

“I’ve got to go. Someone’s just come in.”

“Thank you again.”

He was silent for a moment. Then he said gruffly, “You’re welcome. And good luck on that exam.”

* * * *

It was almost five forty-five when I dropped off the finished test on Dr. Fordham’s desk. He peered at me over his glasses once again. “I understand you’ll be leaving us, Mr. Llewellyn. I must say I’m sorry to hear that. You were one of the few students I’ve actually enjoyed teaching.”

“Um…thank you?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” He picked up a red pen and drew the first of the pages I’d turned in toward him. “Results will be up on the department’s website by the end of the week. Good evening.”

“Have a good summer, Dr. Fordham.”

He grunted and began reading my answers, and I returned to the dorm to get changed and gather up the books Hunter was going to try to sell for me.

* * * *

Dinner was everything Gabarelli’s reputation promised. I wished I could have invited Ham to dine there with me, but there were no prices listed in the menu, and I knew what that meant: they would wind up being exorbitant. Hunter didn’t let me see the bill—he wouldn’t even let me get the tip—and the food was well worth whatever he paid, but dinner could have run to more than I had in my checking account.

“I’ll drive you back to your dorm.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The drive was accomplished in silence, but when he pulled up in front of my dorm, he said, “Remember, I’ll always take you back.” He drew me into a hug and kissed my cheek.

“Thank you, Hunter.” I worried my lower lip. Did I kiss him in return? Did I shake his hand? “Um…”

“You’d better go. I’m sure you have a lot of packing to do. And as I said, I’ll make sure to deposit what I get for your books into your checking account.” He raised a hand. “And don’t thank me again. This is what friends do for each other.”

That decided me. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Hunter,” I whispered and opened the passenger door of his car. He’d always been so nice to me, right from the start. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, you sweet boy.”

I hurried around the car and jogged up the steps, turning to give him a final wave before letting myself into my dorm.

Andrew Scott was in our room, once again lounging on my bed. He’d obviously gotten lucky; his eyes had a sated look, while the unfastened collar of his shirt revealed a hickey below his Adam’s apple. How could someone go out to take a final and come back smelling of s*x?

He looked me over. “Wow. You clean up pretty good. Where’ve you been, Kippers?”

“I had dinner with my boss.”

“Oh, yeah? My boss never did that.”

“Scott, you don’t have a boss.”

“Well, I did back home. And besides, it’s the principle of the thing.”

I shook my head and pulled out my duffel bag. “Mind getting off my bed?” Since the dress code at Armand was so relaxed, all I’d needed were a few pairs of jeans, some sweatshirts, T-shirts, and jogging shoes. I’d pack all my casual clothes and keep out a clean dress shirt and what I was wearing for tomorrow. Sir wouldn’t be pleased if I appeared in informal clothes.

Grudgingly, Scott got to his feet, the sated look replaced by something more petulant. “Did that pathetic old queer try to get in your pants?”

“What?”

“That fag you’re working for. Everyone knows he’s gay.”

“In the first place, he’s not old.” Hunter was maybe in his mid-forties. “And in the second—so what?”

“What do you mean, ‘so what’? He was probably just waiting to nail you in the stockroom.”

“Is that a euphemism for ass?” I found a couple of plastic grocery bags and stuffed both pairs of my jogging shoes into them before packing them in the duffel.

“Huh?”

“Hunter never made a pass at me.” I took a handful of underwear from the top drawer of the dresser I’d used all year. “I think my feelings are hurt.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. I’m a nice-looking guy, wouldn’t you say? Why didn’t he come on to me?”

“Are you crazy? Did you want him to…to…to touch you?”

“No, but that’s only because I’m sort of involved with someone else. Hunter is a nice guy.”

“He’s a homosexual!” He spoke slowly, in case I couldn’t understand the word otherwise.

“Scott, you’re an asshole.” He shied back. I’d never said “boo” to him before, but it had suddenly occurred to me I was tired of all his bullshit, and I wouldn’t have to put up with him anymore after this evening.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend to you.”

“Why? You never bothered before. Or is it that you just discovered who my father actually is?”

“Who…what…uh…” But he turned a dull red, and I wondered who’d spilled the beans and if Scott wished he’d been nicer to me.

“It doesn’t matter to me, anyway,” I told him. “Hunter was a good boss, and I’m going to miss working for him.”

There was a perfunctory knock on the door and then it was thrust open. Riley Tarleton, a friend of my roommate’s, stood there, grinning. “Hey, Scottso, the party’s already underway. What’s the hold up?”

“Llewellyn’s a fag!”

“The correct term is gay,” I said cautiously. Was Tarleton going to beat me up over this?

“And you just found that out now? Jesus, Scott, what planet are you living on?”

“What?” Scott looked dumbfounded.

“Yes, what?” I was pretty baffled myself.

“You looked good in jeans, but in that suit…” Riley came in and ruffled my hair. “You were always so busy,” he murmured.

“Oh, my God, you’re gay, too!” Scott’s voice sounded like one of the Chipmunks.

“Actually, yes. And your skinny white ass was safe all this time. Makes you wonder where you’d gone wrong, doesn’t it?”

I bit back a laugh to hear my words paraphrased.

“Now, are you coming to the party?”

Scott rushed out of the door, and I sighed. “He’s going to spread the news to everyone in the dorm, and probably on campus.”

“f**k him.”

“No, thanks.”

Tarleton laughed. “I’m serious, you know. It was a shame you were always busy. We could have had some good times together.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer him. “Are you coming to the party?”

“No. I have to catch an early bus tomorrow morning.”

He nodded. “It might be a good idea for you to lock your door.”

“Scott’s got a key.”

“I’ll get him drunk and keep him off your case.”

“If he lets you near him. Thanks, Tarleton.”

“Call me Riley. We’re family, after all.”

I guessed we were, in a manner of speaking. “I’m…I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other better.”

“Maybe next semester.”

“I won’t be coming back.”

“Bummer. Give me your email address. We can keep in touch.”

“I’d like that.” And I was telling the truth. If I hadn’t been so intrigued by Ham, I’d have regretted I’d let what happened with Daniel keep me from exploring a friendship with Riley. We exchanged email addresses, and then he hugged me and sauntered out to rejoin the party.

I gazed around the room. Sheets, towels, the mini fridge I’d bought my freshman year…Even if the bus driver allowed it, there was no point in taking all that home with me. I went looking for Lee Carpenter, my RA. He’d know if it could be stored for an incoming student.

“Thanks, Llewellyn, but actually…”

“What?”

“There’s a house in town for kids who’ve been thrown out by their families. Would you mind…?”

“That’s a great idea. Take whatever you can use: towels, sheets, blankets. Oh, and the surge protector.”

“Thanks,” he repeated, and he squeezed my shoulder. “I hope everything goes well for you.”

“Thank you, Lee.”

We shook hands, and I returned to my room. Once I’d finished packing, I decided to take Riley’s advice, and I locked the door.

I stripped down to my boxer briefs, hung up my suit in readiness for the morning, and got into bed.

My last night at Charles T. Armand University. It had been a good three years, in spite of the stress of having to come up with scholarships to avoid being asked to leave.

I pulled the covers over my shoulders and closed my eyes.

Of course going to sleep was another matter entirely.

God, those people were loud!

* * * *

I never overslept, but I did the next morning; as a result, I only just managed to grab a bite for breakfast and make it to the bus depot. The driver didn’t give me a hard time, which I appreciated. He stowed my duffel in the storage compartment and told me to find a seat.

The air conditioning was out, so I opened the window next to my seat. I had my laptop with me, but there was nothing I needed to do; I didn’t feel like reading the e-books I’d saved to my hard drive, and I didn’t want to waste my battery playing solitaire or Mahjong Titans.

Instead, I plugged the ear buds into my Zune and turned it on. Technology went out of date almost as soon as you brought an item home—in fact this was seven years old and only had eight gigabytes of storage—but I treasured it because Granddad had given it to me the Christmas after I started high school, and he’d made sure it had all my favorite music.

Of course that was way before he’d learned I planned to major in interior design. I sighed.

This was the first time I’d be returning to Martinsburg in three years. Most of my classmates had lived for going home for the Christmas holidays or summer vacation, but it had never bothered me that I’d remained at Armand U. Even when I’d been shipped off to boarding school when I was eight, I’d never had a problem with being away from the house I’d grown up in. Life at home was cold.

But Sir wanted me there now!

I leaned my elbow out the window and turned my face into the spring breeze, enjoying the feel as it ruffled my hair. I closed my eyes and smiled, thinking about our upcoming reunion. He’d hug me, stroke my hair, and for a change he’d call me Kipp.